


Always Together, Never Apart

by cherryblossomphil



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryblossomphil/pseuds/cherryblossomphil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They were attached at the hip. The centers of each other’s lives. Inseparable.”; Dan and Phil’s relationship, as seen through the eyes of their friends (based on Vidcon 2k15)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Together, Never Apart

_Louise //_

She doesn’t know how they always manage to snag the window seat. It’s unfair, really; she has to deal with the cranky old businessman and his too-full glass of wine in the center aisle, and they get to watch the clouds drift past. Phil’s already pressed his face against the glass, while Dan casually thumbs through one of the plane-provided magazines. Two pairs of mile-long legs stretch out in the space in front of them, feet bumping together every so often. Dan nudges Phil, pointing at something in the magazine once he has his attention, and Phil laughs, the sound ringing out loud and bright. Dan smiles and they fall back into a comfortable silence.

Meanwhile, Cranky Businessman nearly spills his drink all over her purse and grumbles about their knees accidentally touching. It’s going to be a long flight.

She’s tempted to ask them for a seat switch – despite what his videos suggest, Phil’s much better at dealing with strangers than she is, the charm of his northern accent a perfect complement to those famous British manners. But then the flight attendants are slamming overhead compartments shut and the seatbelt sign blinks on. She feels the roar of the engine coming to life beneath her feet and sighs. Too late now. She’ll just have to deal with it.

And when she glances to her left, she realizes that maybe it’s a good thing that she kept her mouth shut. The plane’s properly moving now, gathering speed for its eventual ascent. Phil’s gone back to looking out the window, but Dan’s turning paler by the second. His hands grip tightly at the arm rests, fingertips turning white under the strain. He’s breathing heavier, and she can see his adam’s apple bob with each nervous gulp. There’s a jolt beneath them and suddenly they’re airborne, London swiftly growing smaller through the window. Her ears are popping. His eyes slip shut.

Just when she’s about to reach out to him, Phil turns around. Wordlessly, he slips his hand over Dan’s. She watches as Dan opens his eyes, exhaling shakily and flipping his palm over to fit their fingers together. Phil squeezes their hands, and all the tension running through Dan’s body seems to melt away. He leans against him, burying his face into his shoulder. Over the roar of the plane engine, she hears Phil’s laugh.

“You’ve traveled without me, like, three times in the last month. How did you even cope?”

“I had to pretend you were beside me, tbh.”

“That’s disgustingly cute.”

“Shut up.”

Her heart melts. And when Dan falls asleep snuggled under Phil’s arm four hours later, her heart melts even more. Cranky Businessman eventually does spill his wine all over her bag, but it’s fine. She can always buy another one.

 

_Cat //_

The high-pitched shriek that came out of her mouth when they strolled into the hotel would’ve been more embarrassing if Dan hadn’t let out a similar cry. The entire lobby watched as she ran towards them, but she didn’t care.  An onslaught of warm hugs and excited chatter followed, and she could feel herself tearing up against the soft fabric of Phil’s shirt. To say she’s missed them is an understatement; 365 days is too long.

They’re all in her room now, trading stories and catching up. Her year’s been broadcasted all over the internet already so she mostly listens, shaking with laughter as they recount their past few months. It’s strange, but watching Dan and Phil talk is borderline mesmerizing; maybe it’s the way they finish each other sentences, trading off with ease and familiarity. Maybe it’s the way their stories always involve the both of them, “me and Dan” or “me and Phil” rolling off their tongues with every other breath.  Or maybe it’s the way they’re so attentive to one another, watching the other speak with so much love and adoration in their eyes that she often feels like she’s intruding on a private moment.  It’s painful to watch, actually, now that she thinks about it. She used to have that not too long ago. The wound is still fresh, the memories are still there. It hurts to watch the way they love each other.

The hurt must show on her face, because Dan notices. It’s late; Phil’s succumbed to the jet lag and is dozing across Dan’s lap. She’s watching him thread his fingers through black fringe, his touch feather soft, when he calls her name.

“You okay?”

His eyes are filled with sympathy when she meets them. He knows what she’s thinking about – _who_ she’s thinking about. Of course he knows. Dan’s a good friend.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” She rubs her face wearily. “I miss him. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

Dan nods. “I know. It’ll pass, don’t worry. And one day, you’ll find the right person.”

“Yeah, I know. I guess…” She sighs. “I guess it just kinda feels like I’m running out of time, you know?”

Phil stirs, breaking the quiet of the room. He nuzzles his nose into Dan’s stomach with a quiet sigh. Dan glances down with a soft smile, and her heart twinges at the sight. They really are perfect for each other.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he murmurs, threading his fingers through Phil’s hair once more. “Time doesn’t really matter. It took me eighteen years to find my person, and when I did, it felt like I’d known him my whole life. That how you know you’ve found them.” He looks back at her and smiles. “You’ll find your person. I promise.”

Phil eventually wakes up, voice deep and scratchy from sleep. Dan calls him an old man and suggests they go to bed. They bid her goodbye with promises of pancakes for breakfast, and she watches them stumble down the hallway hand in hand, wishing for the day that she’ll finally have what they have.

 

_Mamrie //_

They’re not even thirty minutes into the panel, and her ears are already ringing. She’s not sure whose great idea it was to make “Dan Howell” the punchline cue for deafening screams, but she’s got some strong words to say to them.  It’s absolutely insane - the poor kid can’t even get a word in without the entire audience shrieking to the high heavens. The concentrated amount of estrogen in the room isn’t helping, either, especially since she’s pretty sure teenage girls seem to have the alarming ability to smell testosterone from a mile away. It’s all a little overwhelming, and she’s not nearly drunk enough to handle this noise level. She hopes John and Hank got her email about putting vodka in the water bottles.

She’s not mocking these girls, no. She understands. Hell, she used to be just like them, back in the day - crying over JT and Marky Mark, dreaming of the day she’d finally get to meet them, being absolutely confident that her teased ponytail and hoop earrings would sweep them off their feet and down on one knee. She knows the drill, and knows it well. No judgment from Mamrie Hart.

It’s just… she doesn’t understand the appeal. Sure, he’s got that aesthetic everyone seems to like; leather jacket, black skinny jeans, hair straightened within an inch of its life. He’s got that incessant little smirk that’s sure to make any girl feel a little somethin’ down there. And of course there’s that British accent, a guaranteed panty-dropper since the dawn of time.

But he’s got _such_ a baby face, complete with dimples so deep you could lose a nickel inside them. He’s gangly and tall, like a baby giraffe just learning how to function. And, good Lord, he is the most _awkward_ person on the face of the planet – he almost knocked over a tray of food backstage and turned so red, she thought he was overheating under that damn jacket. Dan Howell doesn’t seem like the kind of guy you’d want to take you against a table; he’s more like the guy you want to tuck in bed and protect from the horrors of the world.

Then again, she is in her thirties. Maybe she’s just getting old.

It’s amusing, though, watching him handle his fame. He’s at the prime of his life, the age at which he’s supposed to be the douchiest version of himself, and yet here he is blushing like a little boy at the sound of thousands screaming his name. The twenty year-olds she knows would bask in the attention, but not Dan. Every high-pitched squeal makes him duck his head. Every shouted proposition makes him squirm in his seat. The idea of “marrying Dan Howell” makes the audience explode, but he just smiles shyly and looks at his shoes. She doesn’t get it.

She doesn’t get it, that is, until the panel ends and they head backstage with deafening screams still ringing in their ears. She watches as Dan makes a beeline to the back of the room, where an equally tall and gangly-looking boy hides in the shadows with a smile. She watches them embrace tightly, laughing into each other shoulders. She watches (and listens), as Phil wraps his arms around Dan’s waist and strokes a hand across his back.

“#1 Phil trash, huh?”

“Obviously.”

And she gets it. She totally gets it. And she laughs to herself. Those fangirls are wasting their breath.

 

_John //_

He’s never going to release a movie this close to Vidcon ever again. Looking for Alaska will have to wait till next fall; he hasn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in days, and even the makeup artist is struggling to hide the bags under his eyes.  He needs a break. Two more days, and he’ll take a nice, long vacation.

 In his home.

In his bed.

Right now, there are more urgent things to worry about. They’ve got a full day of panels planned for tomorrow, but not enough chairs. He’d laugh if he wasn’t so tired. They’re spending thousands of dollars renting this place, and they can’t even provide enough chairs. It’s ridiculous, anyway; there’s no way there can’t be enough. The volunteers probably just aren’t looking in the right places. But it’s late, and he can’t really blame them. It’s been a long day.

It’s the “Power of Words” Panel that’s causing the issue. Too many panelists, not enough chairs. And it’s all Phil’s fault, really. The email came about a week ago, asking if it was possible for Dan to be added at the last minute. And he’d said sure, of course. No big deal. But he’d forgotten to update the seating arrangement, and now there wasn’t enough room on stage.

Too many panelists, not enough chairs. It’s driving him mad.

If he’s honest, he should’ve just put both of them on the panel in the first place. He’s not really sure what he was thinking, scheduling them in different groups; it’s practically internet law to keep the two together. And it’s honestly better that way. The two of them just _click_ , lighting up the room with so much charm and charisma and laughter, the likes of which he’s never seen before. It’s magnetic - the kind of friendship everyone wants to join, but no one wants to disrupt. And it’s a codependency that’s almost alarming, if it wasn’t so equal and balanced. He can still remember the way Dan had panicked after losing sight of Phil at Disney World last year; the poor boy was this close to putting together a search party. They were attached at the hip. The centers of each other’s lives. Inseparable. Always together, never apart.

He doesn’t hold much stock in internet rumors, but he understands the severity of their ship base.

So when he’d gotten that email, he didn’t even hesitate to add Dan to the panel. Phil is smart – incredibly so. And charming, and witty; the true embodiment of what makes a Youtube Creator so special. But five thousand people screaming your name is overwhelming in itself, especially when you’re the poster boy for such an intimidating fan base. Phil needs Dan there for support. And that’s okay.

Too many panelists, not enough chairs. But The “Power of Words” panel is on at the same time as his author Q & A. He’ll be dead on his feet come tomorrow morning, but he sends out a memo saying that his seat be given to Dan instead. And if he added instructions to put Dan and Phil’s chairs closer together than the other panelists, well… it’s not like they wouldn’t scoot their chairs closer, anyway.

 

_Evan //_

He thinks it’s justified. Completely justified. Dan and Phil look _so_ good, tonight, and their fans are dying to see them. So if he opens his snapchat, angles his camera to the left and zooms in _really_ close, he’ll be doing a great service to the community.

Even if he left the phandom months ago.

 

 

 

 


End file.
